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“Enter.”
The doors creaked open, revealing a grand throne room with a high, vaulted ceiling. The room was decorated with gold and red, with plush carpets covering the floor.
The space was empty except for the two thrones at the end of the red carpet. In one, King Isaac Winthrope sat; in the other, their mother, Cynthia Clark, was attired in royal garb, with a tiara on her head and her eyes sparkling. Beauty and elegance dripped from her wardrobe, and she looked fit to be a queen.
“Oh, my God,” Langston murmured. They were stunned, still in shock, gazing at her when Cynthia broke into gales of laughter.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’m only cosplaying a queen just so I could see the looks on your faces.” She laughed and rose to her feet, and they met her halfway down the aisle.
Lisa was the first to throw her arms around Cynthia’s neck, and she held her so tight she almost put Cynthia in a chokehold. Tears streamed down her face.
“It's okay. It's okay,” Cynthia chanted. “I'm just fine.”
Lisa drew back and framed her face with her hands, taking in the sight of her magnificence.
“I was so worried about you. Oh, my God…” She hugged her again, her body vibrating against Cynthia, her soul shaken. “It's so good to see you like this. I won't even ask what happened after you were taken. I don't even care. All I know is that I’m glad you're safe and you’re beautiful as ever.”
Cynthia rubbed her hand down Lisa's back, and while she embraced her soon-to-be mother-in-law, unbidden tears welled up in Langston's eyes.
Arriving at this moment in his life was worth all the heartache he'd endured in the past. To be loved and have the women he loved the most in the same room adoring each other made his heart swell.
He put his arms around them both, kissing one and then the other in utter contentment.
